City of Heavenly Fire: Mortal Instrument Series Fanfiction

Chapter Two: Love Makes Liars

Clary bit back bile, disgusted at her self for lying to Jace. She knew how much more she should tell him, but she didn't know if she could. She saw the way he reacted with what little she did say, then she could hardly imagine the way he would feel if she told him all of it...

He seemed much more alert then this morning, if that was possible, because Jace was always on guard. But his eyes never softened now, his limbs didn't unravel their tenseness unless he looked at Clary. She swallowed back her guilt and wrapped her arms around his waist, trying to keep all her feelings from the one person she was sure she didn't have to keep the from.

But she was going to keep him safe, at any cost.

*

Alec was starting to feel dizzy. Maureen had taken too much blood from him, but he didn't say anything to Izzy, Jace or Maryse. Instead he cleaned off the blood and paced in his bedroom after locking the door, holding his battered black phone. With a pang, he remembered Magnus trying to get him to decorate his phone, to personalize it, but Alec never really saw the point in that. It was a phone, to make calls or receive them and to text. End of story. He didn't see his cell as a model to decorate. He just saw it as a useful item. Magnus saw different.

Of course. Magnus saw everything different. He was an artist, in the way Alec never was. He saw the beauty in things, everything from his eccentric clothing to the huge cities of the world. He even saw the beauty in the disheveled, sloppy shadowhunter named Alexander Lightwood, but that time he has been mislead. Alec had no beauty, inside or out. He was a liar. He had lied to Magnus.

Alec looked numbly at the black screen on the cell phone and saw his pallid reflection staring back at him. His messy black hair was pointing in all directions, like his life. His blue eyes were muted somewhat, the vivid shine taken out of them, like a bright color pencil drawing that had tried to be erased but ended up looking like a stain. He sighed, and decided to jab in Magnus's number one last time. On the seventh ring, Magnus picked up, and by that time, Alec was starting to feel dizzier and dizzier. "Alexander," Magnus complained on the other line. The usual friendliness was out of his tone, replaced by annoyance and a tired sadness that he would never associate with Alec before. "Can you STOP calling me? Just get your stuff and GO. Don't call me again. I have half a mind to block your number." When Alec didn't respond, forgetting the blood reforming at his neck, Magnus sighed. "Hello? Are you even THERE?" Alec still stared in silence, trying hard not to pass out. "Alec." Alec quickly took all his energy into jamming his hand into the "end call" button, and collapsed on his bed for some very much needed rest, the blood from his bite still trickling down his neck.

*

Magnus sighed and put away his rainbow phone. He was upset about Alec, but the truth was, he had known that it wasn't really Alec's fault. He was sure Camille made it sound so terrible to him, as sure as he was that Alec refused to shorten his life. Alec wasn't the sort who would go around back-stabbing their boyfriends, was he? No, he was very, very sure that Alec hardly considered the idea, and went to Camille for information that Magnus wouldn't give. It was both their faults. He knew Camille, and it sounded like something she would do.

The REAL reason he called it off was more for himself then because of Camille's interference. Magnus wasn't stupid, but he did it because he was a coward. He knew everything would go down hill. He knew there was a slim chance that this war was going to be won by the Clave. He knew he wasn't going to really have a good chance against Sebastian. He knew, painfully, that Alec had a very slim chance of surviving. Alec was probably going to die doing something stupidly heroic, saving everyone and sacrificing himself. It was the type of person he was. But Alec was probably going to die, and it tore at Magnus's heart. He didn't want to see it coming, didn't want to have to suffer the loss he dreads most. So, determined to forget all his stupid little mundane emotions, Magnus was going to ignore the shadow world and wait until everything blew over. Just like he told Simon he would. He just wanted to have a good reason for doing so. And that was to be ignorant and believe- or pretend to believe- what Camille told him about Alec.

So thats what he did.

*

The cafe was crowded with milling New Yorkers and the occasional mindless tourist. Simon walked in and pushed through the crowd to get to the table where Isabelle was sitting, her long black hair tossed behind her ears, flowering on her short, electric blue dress with lace edges, complete with black tights and shiny heeled shoes. When he reached her, she turned and smiled. She wasn't wearing any make-up, except for blood red lipstick. "Simon." Her eyes were so much darker, like they usually were without being masked by mascara and eyeliner and eyeshadow. They looked younger and wider, boring into him with the vanilla jasmine scent Isabelle wore all the time. He slid into the chair opposite her, her dark eyes still upon him, and he breathed her name.

"Isabelle."

He bit his lower lip, at a lost of what to say. He didn't even really know why they decided to meet up. Where they dating again? Was he supposed to kiss her or something? He wished he had Jace's ability to say the right things at the right time, the clever wit and sarcasm that attracts girls. Even though he claimed he hated Jace, he knew that he was really a good person afraid of his past, who hid under a mask of pretended arrogance to shield himself. And if he loved Clary the way he did, Simon was happy for both of them. Sometimes.

Simon suddenly felt something warm clasp his cold, clammy hand, and looked down to see Izzy's fair, slender hand snaking under the table to meet his own. Her hand was incredibly soft for someone who killed demons, tender and comforting in the way Simon liked. Of course, it wasn't because he was cold, he was a vampire; he was dead. But it sent a little shiver through his heart, one that hasn't been touched by Isabelle for a very long time.